What Lurks Within

It is an empty shell of a room
With many another empty room as its twin
What one can’t see in her barrenness
Is what might lurk within
No telling what acts have been played out
Some stories ended and some begin
But has their script been written by
The stuff that lurks within
Alone now in its emptiness
No signs of glory or of sin
The eye of the beholder can contemplate
Of what might lurk within
Sounds echo off her barren walls
Until the next unsuspecting souls move in
And experience the force for themselves
Of the stuff that lurks within

Thanks Mandy. The last contest poem I wrote that everyone assured me was a winner - didn't even receive an Honorable Mention and I think some 30 of the 35 entries placed somewhere. You just never know.